Numbers
by Alive Through Writing
Summary: Merlin contemplates whether or not three is really enough to take down Valentine. Merlin/OC. Not really all that much romance, but it is a romance plot.
1. Three

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, basically. Also, sorry if it's shit, I saw the movie today and felt the need to write something about my favourite character, Merlin, and didn't care that I was half asleep when doing so.**

* * *

So, it was three. Three Kingsmen against Valentine and what could only be considered his army. A knight who hadn't been in the field in more years than he would care to admit, a rookie who had been accepted only days prior, and a boy whose recklessness had him leave training with nothing to take home with him besides a pug. Merlin couldn't help but sigh as he placed his head in his hands.

The two young agents were readying themselves for the jet and he had what he knew would be his last moment alone for a good while. They didn't have to be only three, he considered briefly before dismissing the thought quickly. No, he didn't know if he could trust any of the other knights, and he didn't have time to thoroughly check any out. They had to move. Now.

His thoughts glanced towards the one knight he was sure would help, who would drop everything, months worth of work, just to be at their side. The one person he couldn't even fathom would betray him, betray them, he corrected himself quickly. But then, Arthur had betrayed them. How could he be so certain about Guinevere? Legend had her as Arthur's queen, a queen who had left his side, but his queen nonetheless. No, he decided sharply. Even if he could trust her, she was still on a mission in Brazil. Even if he could get to her without wasting time, it would take too much time catching her up. No. It was three. Three against Valentine's army.


	2. Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, basically. Also, sorry if it's shit, I saw the movie today and felt the need to write something about my favourite character, Merlin, and didn't care that I was half asleep when doing so.**

* * *

Battered, beaten and exhausted, Merlin let himself into his double story townhouse, lugging his bag at his side with far less grace than a Kingsman usually held. But for once, he just didn't care. They had done it. Three Kingsman had saved the world. And their thanks? Nothing more than being able to go home at the end of the night; an oddly appealing thought to the man. Although the new Galahad had certainly received a lot more than that. Merlin chuckled lightly at the thought. The boy had come far, there was no denying, but he would never stop being him; a fact that oddly pleased the bald man.

A glimmer of light shone through under the door to his study, breaking him from his thoughts. Carefully placing his bag down against the wall of his hallway, Merlin slowly took the pistol that was holstered to his back out, preparing to defend himself, despite his worn out state. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, listening out for any sounds, he heard nothing. Perhaps it was a trap, lure him towards the room before attacking him from behind, he thought pessimistically as he moved closer to the door. No, he wasn't about to fall for that, not in his own damn home!

Moving quickly past the closed door, he turned into the next room, his lounge, with surprising fluidity. Turning the corner, gun at the ready, he was greeted by no attack. Moving towards the solitary bookcase, he carefully pulled his copy of Great Expectations out, causing the bookcase to ease to the side with no effort at all. Certainly, a secret passageway was a cheesy way to go, but Merlin had always been rather fond of the old trick. So, gun once more at the ready, he moved into his study from his hidden position in the back corner, only to find no men with guns, no assault team at the ready, merely a sleeping figure curled up on one of his matching arm chairs.

With a sigh of relief, Merlin replaced the guns safety and placed it back in it's holster, moving towards the intruder quietly he bent down to be at eye level with the brunette. She looked so innocent, so childlike, but he knew better. The smile on his face had risen of its own accord, much to the mystery of Merlin as he learnt of it and quickly tried to hide it. Placing a hand near her shoulder he whispered quietly "Rise and shine, your majesty" before lowering his hand, knowing that if he did so in the opposite order, she would surely attack out of reflex.

Waking gently, the woman opened her eyes, slowly at first before suddenly forcing them open and sitting up hurriedly, much to the amusement of the man in front of her. "Merlin!" she cried in joy, not bothering to conceal her emotions as she threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her. The action was rare between the two, but not unknown entirely. They had only had cause to hug on two previous occasions; when Merlin had received his position as Senior Kingsman, and when Guinevere had finally awoken from a rather long coma, the cause of which had been swiftly dealt with by Lancelot with perhaps a tad too much aggression towards his friends attacker.

Finally moving away, Guinevere refused to remove her arms entirely, holding onto his shoulders tightly, as if afraid he would slip away, as fog slips away from mornings grasp. It seemed as though she could not see enough of him at once, eyes glancing over his being hurriedly, taking him in over and over again, making certain he was alright. The man chuckled at her insistent gaze, amused and, if he were being completely honest, somewhat humbled by the experience. Never had he seen her so worried before, not it all their years of friendship.

Her gaze gave him equal opportunity to take in the sight of her. She was tanned, an oddity for the usually pale woman, and her thin frame was built with lean muscle; she had obviously kept in shape whilst away. But what got to him more than the physical changes which made her look as though she belonged on a catwalk as opposed to his old green leather chair, was the deep purple-blue marks under her eyes. No wonder she had fallen asleep, it looked as though she had not slept in days, if not weeks. Not for the first time, Merlin found himself worried about just what her undercover mission may have been.

"You're alright?" she asked with a raised brow, forcing the man to confirm her sights.

"I'm fine" he replied with a soft smile. "What made you think otherwise?" he couldn't help but ask. The trios activities with Valentine had yet to be reported, and even so, she had been undercover herself the last he had heard.

"You weren't in your lab" she replied simply, still refusing to let go of him. "There are two places you habit, Merlin. Your lab and your study."

He couldn't help but shake his head in silent laughter at her response. It had been months, nearing two years, since they had seen one another, and yet she was right. He truly was a creature of habit.

"And so you assumed I would be in danger?" he asked, one of his brows raised in question.

"Merlin," she replied, not answering his question, a slight glare playing on her deep blue eyes. Of course she assumed he was in danger, how could he think otherwise? He was the one constant in her life. The one thing she could come back to and say 'hey, the world might have gone to shit, but he'll still be having his ten o'clock earl grey'. The fear, the anxiety she felt when he wasn't at headquarters, when he wasn't answering the comm; she could never explain how truly gut wrenching a feeling it was.

Despite the anger that played in her eyes, Merlin could not help himself as his hand moved to cup her check, brushing it gently with his thumb. It had been too long since he had seen her. The stresses from the past few months seemed to fly away as she smiled bashfully back at him, her eyes softening quickly. "Were you scared?" the words seemed to tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them, and all he could do was sit in shock at his own deceptive mouth. He started to move his hand away, fearful of what reaction she may give. He wasn't to say such things, he knew that. They were friends, colleagues, nothing more.

Her hand grasped his, stopping it from leaving her rosy cheek. "Yes" she replied simply, not trusting herself to say more. She couldn't tell him how her heart rate rose when he wasn't in his lab. She couldn't tell him that when he wasn't at his home she had lost all feeling inside. She couldn't tell him how she had waited, desperately longing to hear his voice on the comm system well into the night. But perhaps she didn't need to. In his embarrassed state his gaze had fallen to the floor, curiously picking up on the sight of the fallen radio that sat next to the chair.

"I'm sorry" he all but whispered to her. Standing slowly as he removed his hand from her grasp. Moving away from her he poured two glasses of whiskey from the decanter sitting on his desk.

"Merlin" her voice was quiet, timid, as if, for once, she wasn't sure she should be saying what she was about to say.

"Mmm?" he prompted, not trusting himself to look at her hurt form.

"Is this..." she trailed off, deciding to reword her sentence. "Do you feel like this whenever we're in the field?" she asked slowly, generalising her question.

He turned to look at her, still curled up on the leather armchair that looked big enough to swallow her whole. He knew the answer straight away, but how could he word it without giving himself away?

"Yes... and no" he settled for, handing her a glass of the strong liquor, for which she was very grateful.

Nodding gently, she looked down into the swirling liquid. "Do... do you feel like this when I'm in the field?" the question left her lips before her brain had a chance to stop it. Certainly, it had been playing on her mind, but to openly ask it out loud? They had known one another for 14 years and she had kept all feelings to herself, but tonight, the fear that had gone through her at the thought of his being hurt, perhaps it was time to put it aside.

"Yes" he replied simply, looking into his glass also, as if not looking at her would make the entire conversation some odd dream.

She nodded once more, not sure how to take his words, as she took a long sip from her drink. The smooth burning seemed to relieve some of her tension, and she couldn't help but silently marvel at the wonderful science that made alcohol. Still unable to look at the man, she downed the remainder of her drink, hoping to relieve the tension that remained, but to no avail. Slowly standing, she placed the glass carefully on the round table in between the two arm chairs and looked towards her friend with a rather forced smile.

"I should head off" she spoke, almost unwilling to leave. But no, her senses kicked in, things had become awkward, and while she could deal with that whilst on the job, she was absolutely no good dealing with it when it came to personal matters. Picking up her beige trench coat from the side of her chair, she moved towards the door.

"You could stay" the man croaked. It was a bad idea, and he knew it. But something about the look in her eyes, the fear she had allowed him to see, he couldn't let her leave, not yet.

She smiled gently, looking down to the floor. Oh how she could stay. She had no denial that she would love to, she always would, but let this tension continue? Perhaps not.

"You need your rest, Merlin" she replied with a knowing look, and he did. By heavens did he need some rest, but then, so did she.

"Stay" he urged her gently, placing his glass down as he moved towards her. Carefully, almost timidly, he brought his hands to her elbows, pulling her with him towards the singular couch that sat in front of the open fireplace that sat quietly crackling. She mad no move to push him away as he sat them down, no move to follow her mind and bolt. She merely sat with him, allowing him to hold her ever so cautiously against him, bringing such a feeling of safety that she could not help but smile.

Silence lingered as the two sat watching the flames in front of them, and in no time at all, the duo fell asleep curled up in one another's arms in the warmth of the fires glow.


	3. Author's Note

Author's Note:

This is in reply to some reviews and private messages I have had in regards to this story. Yes, there will be a sequel, although I hate to use that term really. It won't be up for a while as I've been working on it each fortnight when I actually get the chance to do nothing but sit with my notebook and pen. I will post an update here when it is up so that you know when that is. This entire story has been written in a completely different format to usual, so expect the sequel to most likely be a one shot which continues on from this (it may end up as multiple chapters, but I'd prefer it to be a single chapter). It will be a long one-shot though. So far it's about 3,000 words long and I've barely cracked the ice. The reason it will be separate is because while you will need to have read this before reading the second part, you can read this alone, and I rather like how it was left, although it seems a lot of people would like it to be continued. Anyway, sorry to those who received a notification that this story had been updated and thought this was going to be a brand new chapter! This will be deleted once I have uploaded the sequel and I will replace it with another note that will lead you to said sequel. And to the Guest using the name WILLOW Owl, I do intend to go back to writing One Letter Off Perfection, however, I'm afraid, at the moment I just don't have either the time nor the muse. Sorry for the delay! Cheers, Andy. 


End file.
